


return: prequel, intro, remix

by dotdae



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: #YouCantEscape, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exes, Friends to Lovers to Ex-Lovers to Friends, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotdae/pseuds/dotdae
Summary: Chanwoo finds it odd that hip hop monster rookie Bobby seems to be avoiding their whole group, sans him. At first he thinks it’s because he’s approachable as the cutest and youngest, least intimidating, but then he finds out“Bobby and Hanbin-hyung?” Junhwe echoes as Chanwoo nods. “They havehistory.”Or the soloist!bobby/ot6!ikon AU where chanwoo finds out of their (past) relationship as the two relearn each other.





	return: prequel, intro, remix

“This has been Chanwoo’s Life!”

Chanwoo meets Bobby on the second week of Love Scenario promotions. He’s just put down his camera for his weekly _Chanwoo’s Life_ video when a few short taps are heard on their waiting room door, and it opens to reveal a smiling face with purplish-blue hair on his head.

“What’s up, guys?” He asks, and his voice is low and the way he chuckles at the way Donghyuk exclaims _Hyung!_ is endearing. “C’mere, I know y’all missed me.” The pronunciation sets off Chanwoo’s bells, but he watches silently as the rest of his hyungs gather around the guest excitedly. Even Junhwe goes, although hanging around and making his way a little slower than the rest. He and the man hug briefly, and Chanwoo wants to laugh at how interestingly awkward they look.

Once their reunion messages are over, Chanwoo hears the man softly chide Donghyuk, “Dude, you literally saw me last week. What are you so excited for?”  

“I’m just happy I get to see you here.” Donghyuk says, pouting.

Rolling his eyes at Donghyuk, the mysterious man makes his way to Chanwoo, reaching out his hand for a handshake. “Hi, I’m Bobby. You must be their youngest member.” The way he smiles is so genuine, at Chanwoo can’t help but wonder why he’s being treated so well.

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” Chanwoo smiles carefully, and Bobby thumps him on the back in a welcoming gesture. Chanwoo feels as if _he_ ’s the new person in the room, and pushes away the thought quickly.

“I heard you play Overwatch,” says Bobby. “Do you want to play against me? My ID is _TeamBBobby_.”

“Oh, oka—” About to take out his phone, Chanwoo gets interrupted by Donghyuk’s shrill voice.

“Why don’t we take this to your waiting room, hyung?” Donghyuk asks, laughing awkwardly in punctuation. Chanwoo’s eyebrows furrow, wondering why they were so hasty to get them out. Jinhwan nods in agreement, quickly ushering them out of the room.

“I’ll stay here instead,” Junhwe offers, and the rest don’t think much of it, moving to the other room. Chanwoo gets comfortable in Bobby’s waiting room instead, marvelling at how he got the same-sized room even though he was just one person. Bobby waves him off, and conversation fills the room with talks of Bobby’s journey.

(Chanwoo should’ve noticed it then. The way Bobby came in when there were only five of iKON’s members in the waiting room, the familiarity which Bobby was treated with by the rest, even the emotionally constipated Junhwe. The way Donghyuk’s eyes widened at a warning message from their manager about the leader’s _return_ from the toilet, the way Junhwe stayed to keep him company. The way Bobby’s gaming ID had the term _Team B_ , the previous name of Hanbin’s production team that had been mentioned in a passing comment.

He didn’t yet, but _eventually_.)

  
  
  
  


Following that day, whenever Bobby sees the whole group of _six_ in the hallways of the broadcasting station, Bobby only goes up to him, bumping Chanwoo’s shoulders in his odd form of saying hi. He doesn’t look the rest of the members in the eye, and of course Chanwoo sees the difference. It’s a stark contrast to how chummy they were in the privacy of their waiting room, and the youngest absentmindedly wonders if it’s because Bobby has a bad image and Chanwoo is the easiest to bully into getting involved with him.

He naturally chalks it up to his appeal as the youngest and most innocent— “Yeah right,” Chanwoo can already _hear_ Donghyuk’s snort in his head— member. Of course Chanwoo doesn’t notice Hanbin’s tension whenever Bobby walks past, or the way Bobby so obviously avoids Hanbin’s eyes. He doesn’t notice their bad blood.

But Chanwoo notices it like this:

It’s 3AM a few days after he meets Bobby. Hanbin comes to the kitchen for a glass of water, still working on some lyrics in his room. Chanwoo is out for a quick bite before he goes back to his game for a last round, and silently nods at their leader in greeting.

“Hey kid, anything special happen to you in the past day?”

What Chanwoo finds is that at the late of night during promotions, Hanbin becomes oddly pliant. He doesn’t know whose effect this is, that it’s become a pattern that during comeback period Hanbin is easier to talk to and more comfortable in his own skin.

“I got a new person to play Overwatch with.” Chanwoo says sheepishly. “I met him at the station. His name’s Bobby and apparently is a new hiphop artist? I don’t know whether you’ve heard of him, hyung.”

At Chanwoo’s mention of The Name, Hanbin chokes on his glass of water, droplets dribbling down his chin and he spits some back into the cup. It’s fairly gross, but it’s also way too fucking late to care, so Chanwoo doesn’t say anything but “You okay hyung? You seem to know him.”

“Something like that.” Hanbin says shortly, amicability gone. He places his cup in the sink and rolls his shoulders, switching off the light in the kitchen even though Chanwoo is still sitting _right there_. “Goodnight, Chanwoo.”  

 _Petty king_ , Chanwoo thinks, but what comes out his mouth instead is: “Night, hyung.” He stays there a few more seconds, shrouded in darkness, before he gets up, deciding he has some investigating to do.  
  
  
  
  
  


 

Naturally, he goes to Junhwe to ask.

Junhwe and Donghyuk are similar in the sense that they’d fill Chanwoo in, but different because Donghyuk actually has a conscience and Bobby is actually Donghyuk’s friend.

“Bobby and Hanbin-hyung?” Junhwe echoes as Chanwoo nods. “They have _history.”_

"What?" Chanwoo asks, eyes widening as usual, except instead of usual attempt at intimidation, it's pure shock. "What happened?"

"You should ask them, dude, it's really not my place to say."

"Come _on_ ," Chanwoo whines.

"Hanbin-hyung has barely been able to recov—” Junhwe pales as he stops mid-sentence, realising he's overstepped his boundaries.

Chanwoo understands, at that, that he's basically stuck. It feels like he's watching his mom and dad fight, except they've already separated before he even saw them together. In a sense he understands. Just the thought of placing Hanbin next to Bobby makes abounding sense, and the chemistry already sounds outstanding.

He’s usually quick to notice and digest, unlike when the hyungs do hidden cameras on him and he’s just lost, blindly following their instructions. It's at times like this when everything seems to click. He mulls over what Junhwe revealed to him. “By any chance…” He opens, Junhwe already getting up and walking to the door in an effort to escape any more unintentional revelations the place. “Just answer me this. Was RETURN…?”

“Written for one Kim Bobby?” Junhwe’s smile is bitter, and his voice resonates as he stalks out the studio. “Yeah.”

Sitting stunned at all the information bombarded at him, Chanwoo doesn’t move. Then he does what any good millennial trying to sleuth around would do— he goes home and consults Google. He finds that Bobby had been in YG for a while, not as a trainee, but as a producer and lyricist. Fans have dug some proof and made a thread about how Bobby and B.I knew each other, and Chanwoo laments the fact that even outsiders knew of a relationship that was right in front of his eyes.

What catches his eye is the latest addition to the detailed thread. He even closes his eyes, leans back in his gaming chair and claps his hands together, sighing at his own ignorance. There, next to B.I’s name in the credits for 나쁜놈 _(JERK)_ , was Bobby’s own. He should have questioned it sooner. Why would two people who pretended like each other didn’t exist write a song together? How could they, when Bobby’s last visit to Hanbin’s studio was years ago?

It leaves many blanks for Chanwoo, though, who only knows the bare bones and none of the details. He doesn’t want to ask Hanbin, now knowing that that person probably had left them with many terrible memories. He couldn’t ask Bobby either, they weren’t even close yet. Knowing that Bobby had hurt their leader to the point of plainly painful lyrics and melodies wasn’t doing the older any favours either, placing him as Natural Enemy status.

Chanwoo sighs, pressing enter. He keeps searching.

  
  


* * *

  


What Chanwoo doesn’t get to see is this:

It starts with recommendations. Hearsay is the best promotion, after all. The best date spots, drinks and orders all come from word of mouth. Bobby Kim, not the R&B artist, is a up and coming artist. He’s following no one’s footsteps, apparently, choosing to build his own career through featurings and production. _He’s not preparing for a solo mixtape or anything like that,_ Tablo tells Hanbin, _would you like his number?_

Hanbin gratefully accepts, of course, because if Tablo recommended this dude, how bad could he be, right?

Right. Bobby walks into Hanbin’s studio, the one in the basement he’s long called his home, and introduces himself. From the get go, Bobby exudes the confidence and laid-back nature Hanbin wants. It’s the opposite of Hanbin’s high-strung, suspicious nature, and without even wanting to, Hanbin decides he likes Bobby. Just by saying _hi, ‘m Bobby_ , he wins Hanbin over.

Bobby remembers that day like it’s the first track he ever released.

He’d be lying if it wasn’t awkward. He initially speculated that Hanbin was older than he was, deciding on using formalities instead of asking. It only took a cheerful Kim Jinhwan to break the ice. Jinhwan had stopped by Hanbin’s studio to make sure Hanbin had eaten, and was surprised to find that Bobby had already taken it upon himself to ensure Hanbin’s regular meals.

Jinhwan said, leaving a container of omurice Yunhyeong had apparently made. “You got Hanbinnie to eat? Wow, you must have some power over him already.”

“Wait,” Bobby had said. He echoes, “Hanbinnie? How old are you?”

“I was born in the legendary ‘94, baby,” Jinhwan replies easily. “Hanbin is two years younger than me.”

“Oh what. I’ve been calling him formally this whole time.”

“It’s his force, isn’t it?” Jinhwan laughs, rearranging Hanbin’s desk with effortlessness. “You seem to be keeping him grounded, so I’m thankful. Don’t break his heart, okay?”

When Hanbin returns to the studio, Bobby breaks the silence with a neutral, “Shouldn’t you be calling me hyung?”

Struck, Bobby swears Hanbin almost dumps his cup of instant coffee on Bobby’s head. Not quite in surprise, but irritation. He still had quite the temper. “What?”

“I was born in ‘95, and you were born in October ‘96. You should be calling me hyung.”

“I thought you were American enough not to care,” Hanbin says, taking his seat beside the older and opening his notebook.

“My mom would totally not approve of this, no matter how much I like you.” Bobby says, giving Hanbin a pointed look.

Relenting, Hanbin nods. “Okay, Bobby-hyung. Please take care of me in the future.”  
  
“Hanbin-ah,” Bobby calls out, teasing but fond. “Just lean on hyung from now on, okay?”

  


* * *

  
  


Chanwoo isn’t called the Maknae on Top™ for nothing. He’s gotten away with many things, taking the role of Nick Carraway and unknowingly collecting every member’s secrets. If Junhwe Koo thinks he can get away with evading his questions by simply running away, then he clearly doesn’t know Jung Chanwoo at all. Coupled with his natural observatory skills, he plans to needle out bits of information from each member until he gets a full story.

For now, his target was the very easy other twin.

“Sometimes, hyung, I look through these lyrics and wonder, who hurt Hanbin-hyung?” Chanwoo asks, knowing the topic had come up earlier when Hanbin had explained what kind of emotions to express during Jinhwan’s recording. The dark cloud had returned to its place above Hanbin’s head, but Chanwoo could deal with that later.

“Bobby,” Yunhyeong mumbles absentmindedly in between two particularly tricky notes he had been humming. _Bingo,_ Chanwoo thinks, and waits for Yunhyeong’s belated reaction of regret that _holy shit that just came out of my mouth, Hanbin’s gonna_ kill _me._ Yunhyeong immediately puts down his lyrics after a silent beat, hands folding into a silent plea. “Chanwoo-yah, you love hyung right? You don’t want him to die, right?"

Chanwoo presses his lips together, trying to stop himself from laughing. “Yeah, hyung, I won’t.”

Yunhyeong breathes a sigh of relief. He reaches out to ruffle Chanwoo’s hair, the younger trying his best to lean back before resigning himself to his fate. “I always knew you loved hyung.”

“I mean, yeah,” the younger replies, smiling. “Which other twin can I blackmail?”

The older just groans and throws one of the couch pillows at Chanwoo. He misses terribly, and it hits the floor, just missing one of Hanbin’s lamps by an inch. “That’s antique!” Hanbin’s shrill voice calls from inside the recording booth. Yunhyeong ducks his head, startled, as Hanbin calls Chanwoo to restart the track for another round of rehearsal.

After recording, Chanwoo corners Yunhyeong and Donghyuk eating dinner together when Hanbin’s still holed up in the studio. “That’s the thing,” Yunhyeong tells Chanwoo, learning forward and whispering conspiratorially. “I was shocked that when Bobby left, Hanbin and I got close. He kept leaning on me and all that, because I’m easy with the skinship, right, Chanwoo-ya?” He says this, fluttering his eyelashes and clinging onto the youngest’s arm. The latter wants to object, but he doesn’t, pliantly nodding.

“Did your heart flutter?” Donghyuk asks jokingly.

“Well… Yeah, a little,” Yunhyeong confesses unabashedly. The two younger members hoot in elation.

“If we weren’t on a mission, we would be setting both of _you_ up,” Chanwoo says.

Yunhyeong rolls his eyes, swatting Chanwoo away. “He only did that to me because Bobby wasn’t there anymore.”

And when Hanbin comes out to the kitchen, Chanwoo escapes back to his room.

 

The problem with Bobby and Hanbin, Chanwoo muses later that night, was how they couldn’t seem to be able to escape each other. Aside from the group of six, four of which Bobby remains extremely close with, they have way too many mutual friends— from mentors like Swings to rapstars like Mino or Olltii. No matter who Chanwoo squeezes it out of, the emotional Donghyuk or the careful Song Minho, he realizes they always said the same thing.

It didn’t make a difference who he asked about their past. He was always listening to a single divergent story. It seemed like Hanbin was done trying to escape it, now that Bobby had resurfaced to become an artist that he’d cross paths with more often.

“Is there any one I overlap with?” Hanbin asks, leaning forward in his seat after hearing his personality type. The dynamics of his members always interested him, and so did the mention that Donghyuk and Junhwe were similar entities despite their clashing and occasional inability to understand the other.

“Ah, not between the six of you,” the analyst says apologetically. Hanbin understands why she’d apologized; it was clear as day the answer he wanted. The reassurance that there would be someone always knowing his intentions, who understood his motivations. “But Bobby-ssi came last week and _he_ overlaps with you,” she says, smiling as she rearranges her papers.

Unlike the day Chanwoo said Bobby’s name for the first time, Hanbin doesn’t freeze, instead making a _Ohhhhhh_ sound. From the corner of his eye, Chanwoo can see Jinhwan let out a small sigh of relief at the absence of tension Hanbin had at the mention of Bobby. It ends at that, and they go on to talk about Yunhyeong and as the emotional guy nearly sobs while talking, all mention of Bobby is forgotten.

 

* * *

  
  
  


What Chanwoo doesn’t know is that the reason why Hanbin is so pliant at 3am is because of how used he was to a sense of calm during that time of the night. Despite him now being alone or with other friends in the studio, he had become used to Bobby talking him down and being beside him during that time of the night.

That effect had stayed.

It also helped that maybe, there was a precious _first_ memory Hanbin treasured in his heart, and could not go sour, no matter how hard he convinced himself this was a bad memory.

 

Bobby’s humming a melody under his breath, no lyrics. It’s one that’s foreign to Hanbin, despite spending almost every day in the studio with Bobby. There are a few songs in progress that Hanbin knows about and has left to Bobby to figure out on his own.

That's the beauty of the relationship between them, Hanbin would say. The quiet understanding, only moving in to give suggestions or lend a helping hand when they're fully assured it’s needed. The same way Hanbin gives Bobby something solid to look forward to, to take care of while his family is overseas, Bobby gives Hanbin stability. Bobby is Hanbin’s constant, a reliable rock that just keeps _giving_ Hanbin what he needs.

By this time, Hanbin is sure of what Bobby means to him, the connotations of having Bobby by his side. Everything falls into place, then, a given that for Hanbin, it _would_ be Bobby. No other.

It’s a quiet moment, the neon numbers on the digital clock glaring 03:02. The RECORDING IN PROGRESS light is turned off, along with every other light in the studio. The curtains are pulled open, though, the street lights alongside the pathways outside accompanying the moonlight.

Bobby has coaxed Hanbin into taking a five minute break, threatening Hanbin with chances of myopia, as if he wasn't already wearing glasses. Beats pass in his mind, the melody and lyrics running quieting into a low buzz. While his genius reboots, he cracks open an eye to make sure his companion hadn't fallen asleep. They still had tons of tracks to review.

He tilts his head slightly to see Bobby looking at him, wide eyed yet face passive. Perhaps it’s the way the moonlight reflects off his eyes, skin glowing from the dim illumination. The way Bobby is perpendicular to him, directly facing the window, makes him look absolutely wondrous. Hanbin moves without thinking at all, body moving before his mind can create coherency.

Hanbin shifts his swivelling office chair so that he’s facing Bobby. The two of their postures are mirror images, Hanbin scooting even closer so that his knees press against the inside of Bobby’s thighs. Bobby holds his knee, steadying him.

From Bobby’s view, the way Hanbin goes against the open window’s light, creating a halo around his head. There are shadows on his face, but his eyes remain bright. Bobby doesn't dare move a single muscle, for fear of breaking Hanbin out of the courage he’s mustered to get this far. He keeps his face relaxed, and Hanbin leans forward until Bobby can feel the way he holds his breath.

Hanbin lifts his hand, cradling the older’s face with shaking fingers. He keeps one hand one his own thigh, trying to remain steady. Bobby finds that hand without breaking eye contact with him, and Hanbin bends forward until he presses his lips onto Bobby’s.

Hanbin’s eyes flutter close and Bobby finally draws him closer, moving in tandem with Hanbin. There aren't any fireworks, sparks or anything.

Yet as the thought _This is everything I’ve wanted and it feels so damn right_ crosses Hanbin’s mind for a ephemeral second, Hanbin finds it’s the most genuine and accurate thought he’s had in a long time.

 

* * *

  
  


The hallways of music shows’ backstage area are always crowded, teeming with both A-listers and debutees anticipating their big breaks. It’s mostly filled with staff though, so it’s easy for the lines between leagues to be blurred. It’s only there where everyone’s boiled down to the label ‘employee’. Chanwoo observes that because of the pandemonium that takes place backstage, the people there become more comfortable, not as conscientious of the cameras or watchful eyes.

It’s not every day he gets to witness a confession that isn’t from fan to idol, though. Usually relationships between idols themselves are kept hush-hush for fear of getting caught by the company, fans or worse, Dispatch. This girl has balls, though, Chanwoo will give her props for that. He doesn’t even mean to listen in to what should be private amongst the chaos, but he and Hanbin are stuck at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Hanbin and Chanwoo have been at the broadcasting station five minutes, and the leader drags Chanwoo with him to the restroom. On the way back to their waiting room, though, they’re caught in the mad rush to get Gfriend on stage. Makeup artists are making last minute touch ups as stylists pull on shorts and shirts. They have 6 members, each accompanied by a few staff members each. It makes a squeezy hallway, and Chanwoo and Hanbin miss the chance to make the mad dash back to their waiting room.

They stick close to the wall, bowing best as they can towards the production staff without making eye contact with the Gfriend members. Chanwoo sees on the other side of the narrow corridor, Bobby stands in front of his waiting room door, facing a slightly petite girl. Just at that Chanwoo raises an eyebrow. If he concentrates hard enough, he may be able to recall her group name, no hope for her name, though. _Oh my Girl…?_ He’s not sure, though.

Bobby seems to notice their plight, sending Chanwoo a sympathetic smile. He turns his attention back to the girl, who stands with both hands behind her back, head shyly bowed. Chanwoo assumes they’re close friends catching up until the girl tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and looks up a Bobby, saying loud enough for him and Hanbin to hear, “Do you want to go on a date sometime?”

Chanwoo would boast that he has some pretty alright acting skills, but he can’t hide the surprise that crosses his face. Hanbin can though, and as Chanwoo glances at his leader, he can barely notice the tightening of his jaw, but his eyes remain trained forward, as if patiently waiting for Gfriend and their entourage to _just go already._

As if watching a drama, Chanwoo looks back at the scene in front of him. Bobby stands there, usually swagger still in tact, which Chanwoo appreciates. If it were him, he’d probably be staring, wide-eyed, maybe even stutter out an agreement without wanting to. Bobby subtly glances at the area Chanwoo and Hanbin stand, eyes lingering on Hanbin for a split second longer. The lingering is almost imperceptible, but now that Chanwoo is armed with new and useful! Information, it means a lot to him. Maybe he can even add it to the thread. _Hanbin and Bobby made eye-contact backstage!_

Eyes darting back to the girl in front of him, Bobby shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested.”

Chanwoo wants to stay and hear what the girl’s reply is, but Gfriend are finally on stage, and the sinking feeling that they’ve overstayed their welcome arrives. Hanbin pulls Chanwoo’s wrist and they walk back quickly to their waiting room. There’s newfound haste, more so than when they were trying to avoid the jam, to Hanbin’s steps. Chanwoo chooses not to comment on it.

 

 

 

Chanwoo does notice, that Bobby had accidentally come to their waiting room right when he was about to go out to get another Inkigayo sandwich. There wasn’t anyone else in the room but Hanbin, and as you would expect it, Chanwoo ran as fast as he could, and Bobby unwittingly took a seat on the couch to wait for Donghyuk. So there they both sat, in the same room but in different worlds.

There’s something about the term ‘soulmate couple’ that grated Hanbin’s nerves, inexplicably. The notion that everything was repairable just because two people were destined, or whatever. The implication that they never truly had to work to sustain the relationship because of an invisible red string. He disliked the term when he and Bobby were coined that, and despises it even more now that they’ve broken up.

They sit in silence, not knowing why they were both unmoving in a room so wide with a door wide open. (It was closed, but Bobby was running through in his mind all the possible ways he could exit the room. There was only one barrier to exit, and it was a difficult one, called ‘Kim Hanbin’, special specie of superstar specimen, serial number 961022.)

Bobby hates stifling silences like these, and even more when he has no idea what to say. Not that he was much of a chatter, but it feels even weirder that he can’t read the atmosphere. That he can’t read Hanbin.

To tell the truth, Bobby wants to reconcile with Hanbin. He'd rather have Hanbin by his side as a friend than none at all, because no matter how long it's been, it's still hell walking the road of entertainment without him. They were meant to be in this together, and now that there was a chance to, Bobby wasn't going to lose it.

"I..." Bobby begins, not knowing where it'd lead. Hanbin looks up from where he stares very interestedly at his hands. Well, that's a good start. "I don't want the kids to keep being awkward whenever they see me. And I know you don't want me to give up my friendships because of you... And..."

He bites the inside or his cheek, then says, "I missed your companionship. So... I'm just hoping we can stop avoiding each other and be friends again. From me, it might not be much to ask, but I want to know what you think, first."

The relief that courses through Hanbin's veins was amazing. "I'm sorry that you all had to go through that awkwardness because of—" He almost says _us_ , but this is not then. "Because of you and me. I'm okay with being friends. And I'm going to be outright and admit that I missed you as a person too."  
  
The smiles they exchange are private, and Hanbin hates how he signed himself up for an impossible mission. Bur still, he was going to work so that they would work out. They will.

 

  
  


"So. Just friends, huh?" Jinhwan asks, swirling the red wine in his glass while he stares at his photo on the wall. Hanbin lies on his bed, staring at the wall. "Do you think you can do that?"  
  
"I'm doomed, hyung. I know I should be angry, because how dare he reduce us to just that? He wants to hit this so bad."  
  
"You kiss your sister with that mouth?" Jinhwan asks, giving Hanbin a pointed look.  
  
"Not like we ended on a amiable note either. And now..."  
  
"You still want him by your side, in any form, right?" Jinhwan asks. He's put down the glass, clambering onto the spot beside Hanbin. "God, I miss hanging out with the three of us."  
  
"Yeah. I do. I miss having him next to me."  
  
"I can't tell you any proper advice, Bin, but I'm gonna be here to wipe your tears when you're struggling. You know that, right?"  
  
"We're gonna stay just friends, hyung, don't get it twisted."  
  
"Don't lie, man, you want it so bad."  
  
They both laugh, and for a while, Hanbin forgets about the pressing matters as he falls into a slow, serene sleep.

  
  


  
  
When he's back in the studio, though, it's a different matter.

Writing songs is a commodity to Kim Hanbin. He’s an acclaimed songwriter, after all, having participated in debut singles of all the YG new gen groups. What’s uncommon, to him, is writing music based on personal experiences right when they’re happening. He doesn’t even realise the story he’s writing until the hook is finished, and he only makes the connection to the person once the song, in all its three minute and seventeen second glory, is finished. He records the guide, but has a sinking feeling it’ll never make it to any albums.  
  
Of course the song has potential. It’s just that vaguely emotional songs are never close to home. Maybe they were unknowingly, but this is the first time Hanbin is writing with a muse that’s still (or again) next to him. Airplane, written on an airplane imagining what kind of lives the people on the plane lead, all brought upon because his seat was uncomfortable. Or Love Scenario, inspired by Oscar-winning Lalaland’s ending sequence.  
  
This song? It was about how uneasy he felt around Bobby. It felt unnatural, to be friends again and only friends. Being enemies, of course, was undesired but had come to be and had simmered to become that.  
  
The hook lyrics are simple but drive the message quick and easy.

 

_We're friends_

_Nothing more, nothing less_

_Let's start at just that level_

_If I burdened you by any chance then_

_I'm sorry for that_

_I practice a hundred, thousand times_

_We're friends_

 

It's way too personal, too real. He doesn't want to look at it, promote the song lest he be reminded of the way he's torn over pushing the limits and trying to recreate the relationship he had with Bobby or staying in his lane and respecting the boundaries Bobby had set.  
  
Their careers, which were still being set in stone couldn't be affected by any distractions. It wasn't like Hanbin had to have Bobby by his side in order to elevate himself and carry his team to the success they currently had.

He takes a deep breath, and keeps the song in his UNRELEASED folder. But before that, he takes a 35 second video of the file, and uploads it to Instragram with an assurance to himself:  _Being friends is good^^_ , and he leaves it at that.

 

So he takes a trip down memory lane, reminiscing the different unreleased songs, filled with ones he'll one day fine tune to add into an album, or the ones that'll be left buried under the rest. He writes like he breathes, and briefly wonders if he'll ever run out of words.  
  
("I'll give you the ones you need when you don't have any anymore," Bobby had once said cheekily. Hanbin had been so enamoured that he kissed Bobby's cheek just for that comment. _But that was then,_ Hanbin reminds himself, _we're just friends now_. He tries to swallow the fight that his heart puts up against those words.)

Love Scenario as an era was coming to a close, meaning that no one thought much of how Hanbin started to hole himself back in his studio. Every era’s end meant he had begun preparing new songs for the next era. He always has music playing in his head, but he wanted to revisit some old tracks that may have potential. He scrolls through his unfinished music, starting from the bottom up.  
  
Titles and Untitled’s move past his eyes easy. He starts humming some of the songs with a melody already created, and a title catches his eye. _jerk (2013 june demo)_ is what it reads, and Hanbin knows the song (of course he does, he wrote the lyrics a long time ago with Bobby then polished it for RETURN), but still opens the file and presses play.

He’s never heard this version before. He has the melody recorded somewhere in his archive, but this version with these lyrics? It’s a shock to him. How did Junhwe even get his hands on the instrumental and melody years before the release?

 

_I’ll wait for you_

_Because you already have a boulder on your shoulders ye ye_

_I’ll go to you_

_Because you’re a busy star_

_Our relationship where we_

_Want to see each other but can’t_

_Because you are so close to your dream ye ye_

_I’ll understand you_

  
So this was why Junhwe's favorite song off the album was JERK.

Hanbin presses the heels of his palm to his eyes, clenching his teeth in a futile attempt to stop the tears from coming. A melody he and Bobby wrote together, in a message that seems to be speaking to him. Perhaps he knew what the song was talking about. A big fight that would lead to the demise of their relationship. This was Bobby's promise, a reassurance that Hanbin had never heard. Yet Hanbin still pushed him away, thinking Bobby didn't have the want to go to or put up with Hanbin anymore.

So he pushed Bobby, and they both broke.

  
Hanbin curses, the wall that was stopping the tears from flowing crumbling easily. There was only one person who could get to him so easily like this, and knowing now that person's genuine, withstanding heart that Hanbin had stupidly ignored, all Hanbin wanted was to be by his side again.

As he breathes in, his whole body shakes and shudders because of the strength of his cries. He doesn't open his eyes, slamming his palm against his forehead.

Yeah, being just friends was _not_  going to be easy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t like being in a relationship was easy, either.

It’s not a surprise that they would fight. The surprise was how far their miscommunication escalated to. They’re usually made up after two days of the cold shoulder, Hanbin returning to Bobby after burrowing himself away as the older forgave him with open arms. This time, it was slightly different. When Double B fought, it’d have many spectators, the other four watching with mixed exasperation and worry. No one wanted them to part, not when they were both the best thing that happened to each other.

The beginning of the end, Jinhwan would admit, started when Bobby starts writing. They’re open enough that instead of keeping their feelings, it’d usually get expressed in words, from nasty, meaningful yet meaningless ones, to soft, comforting praises in the quiet of the night. They’re usually not sending each other songs through recordings.

(No, they would only start doing that when they’re apart, wishing a heartfelt song would reach the sky they were both under and echo into the other’s heart. But later.)

But Bobby writes lyrics to a song which Tablo gifts to Hanbin personally, getting Junhwe to record it. He entitles it JERK, not quite pinpointing himself or Hanbin and then leaving it in Hanbin’s hard drive, as if he knew Hanbin would stumble across it and suddenly understand Bobby’s side of the story. Hanbin would, but at a time much latterly than intended. Way past the time that it would be able to repair any stretch in their relationship.

Hanbin locks himself up, not quite grasping the extent of Bobby’s unhappiness. Not fathoming that the more he pushed Bobby away, it would be outside the limits of Bobby’s seemingly limitless patience. Bobby didn’t understand why Hanbin had heard his heart but refused to acknowledge it. Why Hanbin would think that he could just crawl back to Bobby while Bobby endlessly amnestied him.

That was the thing— Hanbin _hadn’t_ yet heard his heart. He didn’t know of the plea, in the form of song, and its existence.

Hanbin would seek relief in the warmth Bobby’s body provided, always having physical contact with the older. The older, on the other hand, would not reciprocate in the same way he used to. The other five observers noticed, how Bobby's usual fond gaze had switched to averted eyes. Hanbin would notice, confused and retreat back into the cage he built for himself and himself alone.

It's those nights, where he'd sit in the studio lost as to why Bobby hadn't been acting his usual way, that hurt him the most. The cage he had built for himself had learnt to take the weight of another body, had memorised the low murmur of Bobby's voice to stop the walls from pressing him in.

That's when Hanbin felt the loss of Bobby's presence the most.

Bobby feels the loss of Hanbin's presence the most when he's recording or writing lyrics. There would usually be a nagging young man, telling him to stop writing rough lyrics and try to unlock the emotional constipation hidden behind dissing remarks. Bobby would bite back without meanness that Hanbin was one to talk about emotional constipation.

There wasn't anyone to banter or dance terribly to latin music with. There were no meals that Yunhyeong made to share between two exhausted but content souls, no Hanbin to check up on at 2am or tease about sappy lyrics. There was no sleepy Hanbin to appease once Yang CEO's feedback came in for songs. Gone were the quiet, comfortable moments, and all that was left was the quiet.

It was moments where accompanied breathing should follow his but didn't, that Bobby felt the magnitude of Hanbin's absence the most.

If you asked the members which one of them remembered the day Bobby and Hanbin separated most vividly, Donghyuk would volunteer himself. There’s not a single person who knows and has seen exactly what happened, with Hanbin alone behind closed studio doors and Bobby hiding his face, but Donghyuk was most familiar with its aftermath.

He came just as Bobby was pleading Hanbin to let him in, while Hanbin remained quiet. If Donghyuk strained, though, he could definitely hear Hanbin’s cries of anguish. Some nights, the sound of their leader’s heart breaking still haunts Donghyuk, especially on nights when Hanbin closes himself off in the studio, tirelessly working himself to the bone. He imagines it’s even worse for Bobby.

Donghyuk tried not to pry, not pressing when Bobby shielded his face from Donghyuk after he got up and left the studio. It was new, because even during the rare times Bobby cried, he embraced it and never really bothered hiding his face. But on that day, Bobby brought his sleeve up to his face, gently pushing against Donghyuk in an attempt to run away.

Of course, Donghyuk let him. To Bobby, the person who hurt him to the point of leaving was still the only person he wished would be by his side. That person was alone in a locked room, not allowing anyone in.

That night, when Donghyuk couldn’t do anything but watch as the two realest, most compatible people he’d ever seen went their own ways, he had a different outlook on love. He still held on to the two ends of rope the two had decided to untie, though, silently hoping that one day, they’d come back together.

 

* * *

 

 

Donghyuk knows that while Hanbin and Bobby had an agreement to be friends, they definitely were  _not_ acting like it. At least Hanbin wasn't, giving Bobby the cold shoulder whenever they crossed paths. He wonders what the hell was going on  _this_ time.

It always happens when Donghyuk is around, and despite his best attempts to mind his own business and refrain from being a meddling duck, timing just _won’t_ leave him alone. He’s sitting in a corner of the waiting room, next to the dressing table. He’s just slightly hidden from anyone entering the room. It’s not a suspicious position to be in, okay? It’s the only place in the room which had a plug which allowed him to use his phone while it charged.

He ponders his conversation with Chanwoo the night before. He noticed that it became more frequent, the long talks discussing Bobby and Hanbin. Reflecting upon it now, Donghyuk can't help but feel like he had been scammed, or at the very least, manipulated. He very willingly gave vital pieces of information about the two's relationship to their youngest, so he can't be cross with Chanwoo.

He recalls an interesting metaphor he used to describe the two, one he heard Jinhwan use for the same two people when he thought the youngest three weren't listening.

"They're like homemade dynamite," Donghyuk had said, biting into a piece of watermelon. He and Chanwoo were sitting in the top-dorm's kitchen, waiting patiently for Yunhyeong to finish mixing their fried rice. "A little more familiar because it was built in your own home using components you're used to seeing, but explosive all the same."

 _Homemade dynamite, huh?_  He pushes his phone charger into the socket, falling onto his butt and trying to settle into a comfortable position as he can get while on the cold floor.

Right as he's about to post a selfie onto his Instagram, the door slams open, and he almost drops his phone. He looks up, about to frown at Junhwe, presumably, about noise and overpowering gestures.

It's Bobby he sees instead, not quite sweating actively but having beads of perspiration on his forehead. He's wearing a loose plaid shirt over a grey tank top, and Donghyuk raises his brows at the questionable fashion choices. You were telling him Bobby wore this on stage? He's about to ask what the older wanted when he realizes the true gravity, the true motivation in coming to the room. Hanbin sat on the couch, earphones plugged in but typing on his phone fervently.

Donghyuk can tell at a single glance that Hanbin was probably writing lyrics, words flowing as easily as his fingers did against his phone screen.

He also knew that Bobby could tell, too.

Usually, everyone would avoid Hanbin at these times, not wanting to hinder the magic that was happening in his brain and out onto his fingers. _He usually would use his tattered pink-green notebook, but he must've left it at home,_ Donghyuk thinks.

He can't leave now, not when Bobby was looming over Hanbin, blocking most of the artificial white lights that were imbedded in the ceiling. Instead, Donghyuk tried to make himself as small as possible, out of their sight and out of the natural order. He prays to every deity—even the ones he didn't believe in— that he wouldn't disrupt the natural order of things.

Donghyuk isn't sure what to expect with the next of Bobby's actions. As Bobby grabs the wire of Hanbin's earphones and pulls so hard the earbuds fall out of Hanbin's ears, all Donghyuk thinks is that he's got a death wish.

Of course, the next most plausible course of action is for Bobby to sock Hanbin in the face, or the other way around. Donghyuk doesn't want to witness it, but doesn't trust any of the other members (sans Yunhyeong, probably) to be able to stop the surging wave that was about to crash down. But to his surprise, Hanbin doesn't even get up, just staring up at Bobby in irritation. "What do you want?"

"Are you writing again?" Bobby demands. He clutches Hanbin's earphone cord tight, as if he's holding on to bits of fairy dust that might release into the air.

"What's it to you?" Hanbin asks, giving him the stink eye. He doesn't pull his phone closer to him to shield his screen's contents. He maintains eye contact with Bobby, but Donghyuk notices his fingers slowly pressing down on the home button twice and then swiping.

Bobby glowers, saying nothing, and Hanbin relents. He shows his screen, which has switched to Candy Crush. Donghyuk blinks, sure that just moments before it was opened to the Notes app—

Oh. The pressing of the home button.

"Bullshit." Bobby grabs the phone away, and Hanbin stands up. Donghyuk's sure this time that Hanbin will retaliate, but the leader says nothing as Bobby finds what he was doing just minutes before. Donghyuk doesn't know it at the time, but all Bobby saw was an open note, with half-complete lyrics about a girl with a high pitched voice and large eyes.

Donghyuk swears Hanbin smirks as he snatches his phone back from Bobby's grasp. "What do you want?" Hanbin asks again, calmer this time. Like he's ready for this talk, prepared for it.

He knows Bobby well, learned him from young but sometimes they all forget that the older was still unpredictable. "The truth," Bobby says, without hesitation. "Your honesty, if it isn't too expensive."

"I bared my soul to you already," Hanbin deflects easily. "I told you being friends is the best option. It's what you wanted and I'll hold onto that until the end. You want more than that and I can't give it to you because I don't feel the same. This isn't _then_ , hyung."

Clenching his teeth, Bobby’s jaw sets and he stares at Hanbin for a few seconds longer. As if trying to see into his soul, detect any lies in the statement. (There were many.)

He continues to live up to the name of Unpredictable, as he yields to Hanbin’s statement. “Okay,” Bobby says, and Donghyuk nearly sobs at the frustration. Then Bobby moves towards Hanbin and reaches behind him at the green notebook which peeks out from under the pillow on the couch. He seizes it, Hanbin just a step too late, and raises it just out of the younger’s reach.

Damn that 2cm height difference.

“Okay,” Bobby repeats. “I’ll believe you.” Hanbin glares, arms dropping back to his sides. The older doesn't put down the notebook, looking at Hanbin straight in the eye. “I’ll believe you if this notebook has no lyrics that alludes to me or has my name. And if not—"

“You’ll think it means something?”

Turning away from Hanbin for a moment and facing where Donghyuk is, Bobby flips through the book. Donghyuk holds his breath, trying to make himself as small as possible to avoid catching either of their eyes.

If it were anyone else but Bobby, Hanbin would have been disconcerted, but it’s Bobby, so all Hanbin’s swipes to retrieve his notebook seem half-hearted. Bobby seems to have found something, turning back to Hanbin with a recovered confidence.

“I don't have to think so.” Bobby lifts up the notebook at an open page, and Donghyuk can't crane his neck to see the page, but tries anyway. “I think this speaks for itself.”

Where Donghyuk can't see is song lyrics scribbled all over the page, with a small note at the bottom.

_Bobby-hyung, Jiwon-ah. I love you and love you. I only have this to say._

It looks like something has physically bitten Hanbin as he recoils, taking a seat on the couch and he shuts his eyes.

“When is it that you’ll want me, Hanbin?” Bobby asks, voice faltering from exhaustion. “Because you're still all I’ve ever wanted.” He lowers himself to Hanbin’s eye level, on both knees like he’s begging. “You, you… still won't listen, huh?” Hanbin’s hands draw away from his face, but his mouth is set into a hard line and his eyes fierce.

“Okay,” says Bobby easily. “I think I know why. Maybe I’ll have to speak your language. I’m gonna listen to your language, Hanbin, and anytime I sense you saying no I’m gonna get up and leave. Okay?”

Saying nothing, Hanbin nods slightly. He doesn't want to give in, eternally as stubborn as a mule, but is curious. Bobby starts to lean forward, hand reaching up to cup Hanbin’s cheek. “Is this okay?”

A single nod.

Donghyuk feels his heart palpitating so hard from excitement that this could be an opening to their new beginning. (He inwardly wishes he wasn't here to see it.)

Bobby presses closer, letting his forehead rest on Hanbin’s, with his thumb caressing the younger’s cheek. “I want to kiss you. Can I do that?”

Hanbin screws his eyes shut, keeping mum.

“Listen to your heart, Hanbin. I’m not doing this unless you want to do it, too.”

“My heart wants you to shut up.” Hanbin says, opening his eyes before surging forward like a tidal wave. This is the language he speaks: the one where the body moves and says the words he’s used up. The ones he can't say. He presses his lips onto Bobby’s, and the older doesn't stumble, gripping the younger’s hips.

Donghyuk doesn't stay to see the rest, tiptoeing out when he hears someone groan and he accidentally sees someone’s hand start going down places he never wants to see. He tries to open and close the door as quickly and quietly as possible, sitting right outside the waiting room door in order to ward away any unwanted visitors.

He doesn't realize he’s grinning from ear to ear until Chanwoo comes back with a camera in one hand and two sandwiches in the other. “Chanwoo’s,” the youngest begins expectantly.

“Life!” Donghyuk finishes naturally.

“Here, eat these. Guess which is the Inkigayo sandwich.”

He takes a bite from each sandwich, raising the second one handed to him. “Wow, damn, these have gotten even better than I imagined. This is the Inkigayo sandwich because it’s yummier. I have to thank the auntie who makes this man.” Chanwoo pouts at him and he quickly says, “Yours is good too, of course.”

Pout transforms into a grin, and Chanwoo looks into the camera with a peace sign. “Everyone, did you hear that? I’m really a good cook. Maybe even better than Yunhyeong-hyung.”

“Fat chance,” Donghyuk says, snorting.

“But both of them were my sandwiches,” Chanwoo says smugly. “And you said they were better than the usual Inkigayo sandwich.” Donghyuk’s jaw drops and he wants to splutter excuses about why he said that. He doesn't, instead giving Chanwoo the satisfaction and credit he was due.

After a few minutes, Chanwoo finishes his recording with the classic covering of the camera lens. By that time, Donghyuk has finished the sandwiches, and as Chanwoo turns his camera off, he asks, “Hey, what are you even doing sitting outside? As far as I know there’s a sofa inside.”

“Even when I was inside, I was sitting on the floor,” Donghyuk says. “And Bobby-hyung and Hanbin-hyung are inside.”

“Fighting again? I’m surprised you’re not doing anything to stop them.”

“Fighting? Please. They’re really _way_  past that.”

Chanwoo furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” He watches Donghyuk wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, and fake-vomits. “No way. Legit?” The way a huge smile forms on his face is telling of the happiness he feels for the two inside the room.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Chanwoo’s…”

“Life!”

"Stop putting that camera in my face. I'm on your videos way too much, people are starting to think I'm you," Yunhyeong says. He says this as he makes dreamy eyes at the camera and fixes his hair, so Chanwoo's not really sure where the complaint is coming from.  
  
"But it's your channel." Chanwoo replies, widening his eyes innocently. "I'm just eighteen-year-old Song."  
  
Yunhyeong groans, and Chanwoo introduces their special guest to the camera. "Today's guest is King of the Youth, Bobby-hyung!"  
  
"Chanwoo's Life is no fun!" Bobby immediately shouts back. He watches one of the very high quality videos Chanwoo has uploaded, skipping tens of seconds of content without a single thought.  
  
"It's fun, though." Donghyuk says, laughing as he watches a different video across from Bobby on the couch. "The editing is actually hilarious."  
  
"I don't wanna be on it," Bobby complains. "My image as a humorous person will be ruined by being on this show." As Yunhyeong makes a noise of agreement, Bobby turns to him and says, "If you are on this boring show half the time, what does it say about you?"  
  
Indignant, Yunhyeong splutters explanations that fall unto deaf ears. Hanbin walks past, not wanting to appear on camera. As Yunhyeong gets pestered by the mischievous youngest member once more, Bobby turns to Hanbin and mouths, "Love you."  
  
The younger's smile is mega-watt, almost splitting his face. He mouths back, "I love you too." And it's enough, Bobby getting up to follow Hanbin to their (technically still Hanbin's, but Bobby's made it his home too) studio.  
  
Donghyuk and Chanwoo don't say anything as they watch, but their matching, mirroring grins say everything. Chanwoo honestly believes that he has some god-given gift of repairing relationships, and Donghyuk just wants to see less of the leader and solo rapper's relationship. What he had seen was more than adequate for his lifetime.  
  
After filming, Chanwoo sidles up to Donghyuk, and says with an all-knowing smile on his face, "So, Donghyuk-ah. What's up with you and Junhwe?"  
  
Yeah, this really was Chanwoo's Life.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually really proud of this fic, and i hope you liked it as much as i did! written for day 7 of #doublebweek. talk to me on twt [@dotdaehanbln](http://twitter.com/dotdaehanbln)!


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